


and i feel you dreaming

by sterekfluffer (teampancakes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is Stiles' Anchor, Dream Sequence, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teampancakes/pseuds/sterekfluffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Stiles,’ Derek swallows, looking very earnestly into Stiles’ eyes. ‘I don’t think there’s a single lifetime in which I don’t fall in love with you at one point or the other,’ he breathes and squeezes Stiles’ hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i feel you dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> No one actually dies in the fic. It's more like a mix between Meredith's dream after she drowns and Harry's meeting with Dumbledore in the last book, at King's Cross. So yeah. 
> 
> HUGE THANK YOU TO MISHAAL: she may not ship Sterek but she reads my work every time and gives me the most wonderful feedback :) In her own words, "I must be the only non-sterek shipper who has read so much sterek fiction."

When Stiles opens his eyes, everything is black. His body feels numb all over so he closes his eyes again and sinks back down into the velvety depths of nothing.

 

The next time Stiles opens his eyes it’s because someone is crying very quietly. He blinks slowly, adjusting to the too-bright light. There’s a dark silhouette right above him, with blurry edges and an unidentifiable shape. His eyes feel too heavy and they fall shut again before he can trace the soft sniffling to a face.

 

‘Stiles!’ comes Derek’s voice as if from very far away. Stiles can barely hear him.

‘Stiles!’ Derek calls out again. Something inside Stiles connects the dots and realizes it was Derek who had been crying quietly before. He feels a sense of deep satisfaction at having figured it out.

‘Stiles, wake up!’ Derek’s unembodied voice says and Stiles groans. Can’t they just let him sleep for once? He’s so tired and his body still aches. Not opening his eyes seems like a really great option right now.

‘No, you can sleep later. Right now, you don’t have much time,’ Derek says. Stiles scrunches up his face in protest.

‘Stiles, please,’ Derek says again and now there is a strange feeling on his face – like four little dots pressing into his skin gently. The pinpricks of contact smooth into a large circular spread over the left side of his face and then there’s a small sigh and then silence.

 

‘DUDE,’ a voice startles Stiles. Scott? Stiles struggles to get his eyes to open but it’s just not working.

‘Wake up, Stiles!’ and it’s definitely Scott. Stiles would recognize that voice anywhere. He focuses on getting his eyes to open and finally manages to blink a couple of times, very slowly.

‘What?’ he asks, the words stiff in his mouth, his tongue rolling around each syllable twice before letting go.

‘Wake up!’ Scott says urgently, grabbing at his side and pulling. Suddenly, Stiles is standing in the middle of a too-white room that seems to go on forever.

‘Whereami,’ Stiles slurs, trying to get his tongue to work properly, damnit.

‘Oh thank god you’re awake,’ comes a girl’s voice and suddenly his vision is blocked by wavy, brown hair as arms wrap around his waist and someone snuggles into his shoulder.

‘Allison?’ Stiles struggles, shaking his head. ‘Allison.’

‘I missed you so much,’ Allison pulls away, holding him at arm’s length, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

‘But you’re –‘ Stiles trails off in confusion, looking around.

‘Don’t think about it,’ she tells him, pulling him by the hand and leading him into the blinding whiteness.

‘Wait, where’s Scott? Where’s Derek?’ Stiles asks slowly, looking all around him. Allison doesn’t answer, just pulls him along faster, until they’re both running and it’s dark and the trees around them are closing in and then he’s all alone in front of the old Hale house, his hands cold and the porch swing rocking slightly as if someone had just got up from it.

‘Allison?’ Stiles calls out, staring at the mansion with the little yellow shutters and the polished, oak door and the beach ball lying in the grass out front.

‘Hello,’ a voice behind him says gently and he turns to face Claudia Stilinski.

‘Mom?’ he gasps, a sudden ache erupting in his gut, making him double over. Claudia doesn’t do anything, just looks at him serenely until the pain subsides.

‘Come in and help me with the cookies will you? I promised I’d make Melissa’s batch for her too since picking up the night shifts this week has left her totally exhausted,’ Claudia clicks her tongue as she walks past Stiles and towards the Hale house.

Stiles stares after her for a long moment before running to catch up. ‘But, mom, this isn’t our house,’ he tells her, stopping her with a hand on her arm. She’s solid and warm and _alive_ and it makes him want to cry and bury his face into her lap like he used to when he was a kid.

‘Nonsense,’ Claudia says, shrugging him off and continuing towards the house.

‘Go on, Stiles, she won’t bite,’ Allison gives him a little push and giggles. By the time he turns around to ask her what is going on, she’s gone.

Suddenly Claudia turns around with an anxious look on her face. ‘Do you want to lie down and nap for a while, love? You look very tired,’ she says, walking back towards him and cupping his cheek with her hand. Her touch makes Stiles weak at the knees and he can’t help but gather her into a tight hug, leaning into her body and breathing in her smell of peaches and coffee and paint.

She rubs his back soothingly and hums under her breath. It’s an old Polish lullaby: Stiles recognizes it and hums along brokenly with her.

‘Come now, why so upset, love?’ she whispers into his ear and Stiles squeezes her even tighter, his hands fisting in the back of her shirt and holding on.

‘Stiles, tell me what’s wrong,’ she asks him, pulling back a little so she can look at his face.

‘You’re dead, mom,’ Stiles blurts out, tears falling down his cheeks. Claudia just laughs.

‘I know, my child, I know. Now, shall we make those cookies or what?’ she grins.

‘But mom, how is this happening?’ Stiles asks hesitantly. ‘Am I dead?’ he breathes, eyes wide. His mother regards him critically, her eyes sweeping over his hairline, the sweep of his eyebrows, the ridge of his nose, the slant of his cheekbones. She bites her lip.

‘I don’t think so, love,’ she sighs.

‘What do you mean?’ Stiles asks, his heart stopping for a minute.

‘Well, I think you have a choice, Stiles,’ Allison says from his left and he turns to see her sitting on the porch swing, next to Erica, smiling at him widely.

‘Erica!’ Stiles calls out incredulously.

‘Hey, Stiles,’ Erica replies, waggling her fingers at him in greeting.

‘Where’s – um, where’s Boyd?’ Stiles asks cautiously, not sure of the rules.

‘Oh, he’s out back,’ Erica jabs her thumb in the direction of the little garden gate. ‘He’s getting some more firewood,’ she sighs. ‘It gets really cold here at night.’

Stiles swallows and stares, not sure what to say to her. He turns to glance at his mom but she’s gone. He spins around wildly, calling out for her.

‘Mom!’ he shouts desperately. ‘Where did she go?!’ he asks Allison, anger creeping into his voice.

‘I don’t know, Stiles,’ Allison says sadly. She’s alone on the swing. Erica’s nowhere to be seen.

‘What do you mean you don’t know? You brought me here! You brought me to her!’ Stiles shouts hysterically, the pain in his gut back. He doubles over, gasping.

‘No, _you_ brought us here. You chose this place,’ she gestures to the house behind her when he straightens up after a while, feeling slightly better. ‘You choose who you see and meet,’ she tells him, pushing her feet off the ground and swinging.

‘I don’t get it,’ Stiles says. ‘I don’t get what’s going on. Am I dead?’

‘You have a choice,’ Allison frowns. ‘It’s rare. It’s probably because you’re a spark.’

‘A choice of what?’

‘I don’t know.’

Stiles kicks at the ground beneath his feet in frustration and squeezes his eyes shut.

‘No! Don’t close your eyes!’ Allison cries out before everything fades to black again.

 

‘Stiles,’ a sharp voice breaks through the haze and Stiles groans. ‘ _Stiles,_ ’ the voice calls out again.

‘Whaaattt?’ he whines, opening his eyes. The bed is soft under him and the sheets are a warm cocoon that he doesn’t want to get out of. Lydia swims into his view, looking at him anxiously. Stiles breathes in relief.

‘Oh thank god, it was just a dream,’ he whispers. Lydia frowns.

‘What was a dream?’ she asks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and leaning back in his desk chair.

‘I had a dream about –’ Stiles hesitates and looks away. ‘I had a dream about Derek and Allison and my mom,’ Stiles says. Lydia smiles gently when he looks back at her.

‘That’s sweet,’ she says and her eyes snap towards the doorway of his room. ‘Maybe you can tell her when she comes up,’ she gets up from his chair and grabs her purse.

‘Tell who? Who’s coming up?’

‘Allison, obviously,’ Lydia raises a judgmental eyebrow.

‘What! No, no, Lydia, Lydia, I can’t be dead, okay? Wait,’ Stiles frowns. ‘Wait, _you_ can’t be dead too,’ he gasps. ‘Oh no, oh no, oh no, Lydia,’ he says frantically, flinging the covers off himself and rushing to her.

‘I’m not dead,’ she snaps. ‘Don’t be silly.’

Stiles stares at her and raises his hands to run them through his hair. Tugging at it seems a better option though, so he sinks down into the chair that Lydia had just vacated and pulls at his hair till his scalp starts to burn.

 

‘Stiles,’ a gruff voice comes from beside him. Stiles lets go of his hair and the burning feeling in his scalp subsides immediately. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, with Derek beside him.

‘So half the people I meet are dead and half are not?’ Stiles says sarcastically. ‘What kind of a rule is that? This place sucks.’

‘I’m sorry but you have to try harder and you have to be quick, Stiles,’ Derek says, grabbing his hand and looking at him with worry in his eyes. It’s the first time they’ve held hands, dead or not, and it feels strangely amazing. Derek’s hand is slightly bigger than his, and his palm covers his perfectly. His skin is very lightly calloused and the pads of his fingers are warmer than the rest of his palm. Stiles focuses on the hand covering his, mesmerized.

‘Stiles,’ Derek lifts the hand in question and snaps his fingers in front of Stiles’ face. Stiles blinks. They’re at the pool.

‘So teleportation is a thing?’ Stiles whistles, looking around. ‘Cool.’

‘Can you please just focus?’ Derek sighs.

‘So, if I just,’ Stiles mutters, snapping his own fingers. ‘Only works for you, huh? Not fair. It’s my dream and I don’t even get the cool superpower,’ Stiles complains, shuffling along the side of the pool and pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

‘Why are we here anyway? Do you feel like a swim or what, sourwolf?’ Stiles looks up to see Derek shaking his head.

‘No. We’re here because _you_ brought us here, not me,’ Derek says, uncrossing his arms and walking over.

‘Huh, that’s what Allison said too,’ Stiles says.

‘That’s how this works,’ Derek shrugs.

‘That’s how _what_ works exactly!?’ Stiles lashes out, breathing hard because he doesn’t know what the hell is going on and it’s confusing him and whatever it is, it is playing with his emotions because he can suddenly hear his mom’s merry laugh. He turns around but of course she’s not there.  

‘Stiles,’ Derek’s voice grounds him and his heart calms a little. Stiles pushes his fingers into the edge of his wrist and digs in.

‘Why the pool?’ Stiles asks quietly, looking at the blue, still expanse of it.

‘Something happened here,’ Derek smiles. ‘Something important to you.’

‘You don’t know?’ Stiles looks at Derek with an eyebrow raised. Derek doesn’t answer for a long minute.

‘You saved my life here,’ he says finally. ‘Thank you.’

They look at each other for a while before Stiles averts his eyes, scuffing his shoe into a crack in the cement of the pavement. Traffic rushes past and the noise is loud and everything smells like smoke and coffee.

‘New York, huh,’ Derek observes, looking around.

‘Oh,’ Stiles looks up too, as if he had just noticed. ‘Awesome! I don’t even need these,’ he waggles his fingers at Derek, grinning.

‘There you are! I have been looking all over for you!’ Allison’s voice sounds relieved and she clasps both hands on his shoulders, turning him so that he’s facing her.

‘I was with, uh, Derek and the others,’ Stiles explains, glancing over at Derek, who smiles back at him in support. Stiles grins in surprise because damn, Derek looks amazing when he smiles. His heart flutters in his chest.

‘Derek’s here?’ Allison sounds amazed. ‘Oh god, did he die too?’ She looks around her, searching but she can’t see Derek, or so it seems.

‘Um, no, I don’t think so,’ Stiles says, glancing at Derek again, who is shaking his head.

‘Okay, this is good. This is good. It means people are still holding out hope for you,’ Allison says, squeezing at his shoulders. ‘Did you see –‘ she trails off, her breath hitching.

‘Yeah. Scott and Lydia,’ Stiles says gently. ‘They’re both fine, Ally.’

‘Good,’ Allison says, wiping at her eyes with the back of one hand. ‘Okay, now listen to me, Stiles, okay?’

‘Okay.’  

‘Stiles, _focus._ ’

‘Okay, okay, focusing! One hundred and ten percent focused.’

‘You are _not_ dead, okay?’ Allison looks at him with very determined eyes. Stiles is actually slightly scared of them.

‘Okay, I’m not dead,’ Stiles agrees, nodding once. Suddenly there’s a loud noise and they’re back in the first, blindingly white room. Allison smiles and claps her hands.

‘That’s great!’ she cries and Derek gives him a one armed hug that Stiles wishes was a proper hug instead. Derek is warm and muscly and his hand is tight and firm around his shoulders.

‘You should smile more often, big guy,’ Stiles turns to tell him fondly.

‘Okay,’ Derek agrees, smiling.

‘Stiles, listen to me,’ Allison interrupts. ‘You need to go back, okay? You need to go back because you don’t belong here and everyone is extremely worried about you back there,’ she tells him urgently.

‘Back where?’

‘Back where you came from,’ Allison says, pacing now. ‘You need to go back, Stiles, _right now._ Otherwise, it’ll be too late,’ she whispers. Stiles feels a chill settle over him at her ominous words and he shivers.

‘Here,’ Derek mutters, taking off his leather jacket and placing it over his shoulder blades so it hangs off him like a giant blanket or a cape. Stiles grins his thanks.

‘Okay, so how do I get back? And even if I don’t, I have this awesome place, right? I mean, I can be with you and my mom and Derek.’

Allison is shaking her head sadly.

‘This isn’t our afterlife, Stiles. It’s yours.’

Stiles stares at her as comprehension dawns on his face.

‘Does that mean –?’ he starts, turning to Derek.

‘I don’t belong here,’ Derek says, rubbing a thumb over Stiles’ cheekbone and looking sad.

‘But I love you,’ Stiles blurts out and then turns red. Derek looks at him carefully for a minute and then leans forward to brush his lips against Stiles’ gently. It’s electric and Stiles trembles at the intensity of it.

‘I mean, I’ve loved you for a while now. I just, I never knew I could ever say it to you. But considering this seems so unreal, I guess there’s no harm in doing that, huh?’ Stiles rambles as they break apart.

‘I love you too,’ Derek whispers, resting his forehead against Stiles’ and looking into his amber eyes.

‘But the real you,’ Stiles asks, reaching out to touch him wherever he can. ‘The real you doesn’t even like me.’

‘Not true.’

‘But we don’t even spend time together and we really do kind of hate each other. Well, you kinda hate me. You think I’m the most annoying person in Beacon Hills. On the other hand, I kind of have the biggest crush on you,’ Stiles looks away in embarrassment.

‘I’m sure my ‘real self’, as you call it, knows and realizes this on some level,’ Derek runs a soothing hand up his spine. ‘You have to give me a chance.’

Stiles tilts his head for another kiss, this time pressing his tongue against Derek’s mouth. He tastes like chocolate and peppermint and fear and Stiles breathes in the heady scent.

‘I’d love to, Stiles, but we don’t have much time,’ Derek pants as he pulls away. ‘We’ve got to get you back, Stiles.’

‘But, but,’ Stiles stammers. ‘What if the other you never feels this way?’ he asks desperately clutching onto Derek’s hand.

‘Stiles,’ Derek swallows, looking very earnestly into Stiles’ eyes. ‘I don’t think there’s a single lifetime in which I don’t fall in love with you at one point or the other,’ he breathes and squeezes Stiles’ hand.

‘That’s – that’s beautiful,’ Stiles giggles. ‘And sappy and romantic and totally unlike you but I could get used to it,’ he finishes wistfully.

‘And you _will._ ’

‘But this is all in my head,’ Stiles says in a small voice. ‘How do I know if it’s even real? What if I really am dead and you’re just a figment of my imagination?’

‘You just have to believe in me,’ Derek says, looking slightly pained. ‘Trust me. We’re all waiting for you back there.’

Stiles looks at the blinding white room and then back at Derek. ‘But how do I go back? There’s literally nothing here but just – space,’ he finishes somewhat lamely.

Derek takes his hand in his and smiles. ‘There’ll be something. Let’s walk around. You’ll know it when you see it,’ he says. Stiles nods and they start walking. It feels very useless because the room is nothing but white and it’s hard to tell if they’re even moving.

‘I don’t see anything,’ Stiles says in frustration, twisting his head in all directions.

‘Breathe,’ Derek whispers, squeezing his hand slightly. Stiles closes his eyes and breathes deeply like Derek instructs him to. When he opens his eyes, the room seems smaller and he feels lighter and more confident.

‘Do you see anything?’ Derek asks quietly. Stiles shakes his head but veers to the left. There’s something there. A black something, on the ground.

‘I see something. It’s black, wait.’ Stiles stops short before the mark on the ground and bites his lip. ‘It’s your triskele tattoo, Derek.’

‘My tattoo?’ Derek asks, his voice wavering very slightly.

‘Yeah. On the ground,’ Stiles pokes at the edge of a spiral with his foot.

‘You see my tattoo,’ Derek sounds breathless. Stiles turns to him.

‘Why? Is that important?’ he asks, eyes widening.

‘No, no, it’s just. I expected it to be something else,’ Derek says, staring intently at the floor, at the mark that is invisible to him.

‘Like what?’

‘Like your dad’s badge or maybe something belonging to your mom,’ Derek says softly.

‘Oh,’ Stiles says in surprise. ‘Oh,’ he says again, when gets what it means.

‘Yeah.’

‘Well,’ Stiles pauses. ‘It’s you.’

‘It’s me.’ Derek agrees, his mouth quirking up in a small smile.

‘I didn’t know humans had anchors too,’ Stiles says, crouching down to run his fingers over the swirls on the ground.

‘You’re not entirely human. You’re a spark. That’s why this is even possible.’

‘Oh,’ Stiles says, his hand stilling over the last whorl. ‘So, what now?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Derek says helplessly. ‘Do you remember anything that happened? Before you came here?’

Stiles shakes his head.

‘Try,’ Derek urges. Stiles closes his eyes and racks his brain.

‘We were, um, we were fighting the chimaeras and I was helping Lydia to the car,’ Stiles says slowly.

‘Where was everyone else?’ Derek’s voice is soothing.

‘Scott was, um, in the hospital, looking for his mom. Malia and Kira were – I don’t know. Liam was right behind me.’

‘Where was I?’

‘On the roof. I think.’

‘Okay, focus on me. Focus on that feeling,’ Derek’s voice is quiet and it thrums through Stiles in harmony with his heartbeat. They’re still holding hands and Stiles focuses on that – a link between them.

‘Focus on getting back. Think about Scott and Lydia.’

Stiles wrinkles his forehead and thinks about strawberry blonde hair and the feel of his best friend’s hugs. A sharp pain in his left leg suddenly shoots up and he winces, stumbling. Derek catches him around the waist.

‘You can do this,’ he murmurs in Stiles’ ear. ‘It’s okay. Your body has probably taken a beating but you’ll be okay,’ he says, carding his fingers gently through the hair at the base of Stiles’ neck.

‘It hurts, Derek,’ Stiles sobs, clutching his leg.

‘I know, I know,’ Derek says soothingly. He spreads his hand over Stiles’ bicep but his veins don’t turn black. ‘I can’t take away your pain,’ he says helplessly.

‘It’s okay,’ Stiles says, falling limp against his side, breathing hard. ‘I think the other you is doing it.’

‘Oh,’ Derek pauses.

‘Thank you,’ Stiles says with a wry grin.

‘Um, no problem,’ Derek replies, quirking an eyebrow.

‘So, I’m gonna try again, okay?’ Stiles says, taking in a deep breath.

‘I’m right here,’ Derek nods encouragingly.

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on his friends, on his dad and on Derek, on the feeling of his lips when they had kissed, on the feeling of Derek’s arms around him. His breath hitches in his throat when his leg begins to burn again but he pushes past it, holding Derek’s hand tighter and tighter, biting down on his lip but not screaming out loud like he wanted to.

‘Stiles!’ It’s Derek’s voice but it’s not Derek’s voice. It’s gruff and harsh and Stiles feels weak and drained. A hand on his arm, some sort of yellow light just behind his eyelids, the smell of hospital and antiseptic – he catalogues it all.

‘Stiles,’ Derek sounds broken and tired. ‘You’re awake.’

‘I am,’ Stiles agrees, letting the feeling of having his pain being sucked out of him wash over him.

‘You were out for a long time,’ Derek tells him. ‘Scott just left a few minutes ago to get a change of clothes. Your dad is at the station. He had a night shift.’

‘Ah,’ Stiles says eloquently, feeling fuzzy around the edges. ‘What happened?’

‘A chimaera struck you and you almost died,’ Derek’s voice breaks very slightly at the last word but his face gives nothing away.

‘I saw you,’ Stiles says. ‘I saw you in my dream,’ he reaches for Derek’s hand. Derek lets him slot it in his, running a thumb over the back of it. Stiles smiles to himself. Dream Derek’s hand and this Derek’s hand fit in his the same way and feel the same too.

‘You did?’ Derek asks, looking down at their entwined fingers.

‘I did. You helped me come back,’ Stiles murmurs, still running his thumb over Derek’s hand, feeling the ridges of his bones, sharp under the skin. Derek doesn’t say anything, just swallows.

‘You were my anchor,’ Stiles says quietly, finally looking up and noticing that Derek’s eyes are slightly red. ‘You’re my anchor,’ Stiles repeats to himself.

Derek blinks and sinks down on the edge of the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls off his shoes and lifts the covers off Stiles. Sliding beneath them, he tucks Stiles between his body and his arm so that Stiles’ head is lying on his chest. Stiles sniffles quietly and moves closer. Derek’s fingers card through the hair at the base of his neck like they had done before.

‘I don’t want to fall asleep,’ Stiles says in a small voice.

‘That’s okay,’ Derek tells him, his chest vibrating with the words.

‘I saw my mom,’ Stiles chokes over the words, his skin tingling as he remembers her embrace. ‘And Allison and Erica,’ he adds, tilting his head up to look at Derek’s face. Derek stops running his fingers through his hair and gazes back at him.

‘They were very happy,’ Stiles murmurs. ‘My mom wanted me to bake cookies with her in your house,’ he laughs weakly. Derek doesn’t say anything, just tightens his grip around him. ‘And Allison was swinging on a swing on your porch, with Erica,’ Stiles continues.

‘And –‘ Derek stops, not able to say the name.

‘He was collecting firewood but I didn’t see him,’ Stiles says gently. ‘They were all happy,’ he repeats again.

‘That’s good.’ Derek resumes stroking his hair and the steady rhythm of it helps calm Stiles.

‘Scott should be returning soon, right?’ Stiles asks after a while. Derek hums in agreement.

‘How do you, um, how do you want to do this?’ Stiles stops rubbing his thumb over Derek’s hand and lifts it up with his, laying it down next to him on Derek’s chest. ‘If Scott walks in right now –‘

‘It’ll be okay,’ Derek says. ‘Unless you don’t want to –?’ he pauses.

‘No, no, I want to.’

‘I want to, too,’ Derek smiles and Stiles’ heart flutters.


End file.
